


Melt your headaches; Call it home

by Croatoanvirus2014



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drug Use, Kavinsky is his own warning, M/M, Minor Character Death, Redemption, Self-Harm, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-20 12:31:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8249144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Croatoanvirus2014/pseuds/Croatoanvirus2014
Summary: Kavinsky lives, and everything changes.





	1. Living's Just a Waste of Death

**Author's Note:**

> um yeah so i was just thinking like "hey, what if kavinsky didn't die? and what if he actually worked on his problems and got help and support?? and what if him and ronan actually became a thing???". i'm so bitter about him dying like no, he didn't deserve tons better but i didn't want him to die it wasn't cool. tbh there's probably going to be some mentions of other ships thrown in throughout but rovinsky is like... the main focus so if that's not what you want then it's best to just not read it and click out of this now.
> 
> btw this first chapter is pretty short but i promise that the chapters are going to get a lot longer in the future, but i just needed this first chapter to basically set up the rest of the fic bc this isn't one where i can just dive right into it sadly enough. also, if you enjoy this, pleaseeeeee leave comments they encourage me to keep writing and make my whole day a bit brighter

            The night horrors destroyed each other, and Kavinsky was alive. Kavinsky was alive because of Ronan Lynch, of all people. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He watched as Ronan left him lying there in the dirt and knew that he had no right to be angry at the moment, but he was. He was angry that after everything that Ronan could just leave him like he was nothing, like they hadn’t been going through tons together in the past few months. He almost called after him just to tell him thanks for saving his life, but he decided against it. He felt empty.

            _thx for saving my life, meant a lot_

_Don’t count on it again._

            He didn’t. Kavinsky knew better by now than to put any sort of trust in him. For a while, he thought it would be him and Ronan against the world, just the two of them in their own created reality that they dreamt up with each other. Of course, he started putting the idea in motion and that was what crumbled his life into what it was at the moment. Dreaming about an idea was much different than executing it.

            _u ever going to talk to me again Lynch???_

Ronan put his phone back in his pocket, not yet ready to respond. It had been a week since Kavinsky’s last text message, and as much as he hated him, he hated himself more for still caring about him. In all honesty, he probably would start talking to Kavinsky again. He needed to cool off for a few weeks, but he knew that eventually he’d be in one of his self-destructive phases again and he wouldn’t be able to resist the sick thrill he got from being in Kavinsky’s dream world filled with drugs and destruction. As much as he pretended he could easily forget about him, Ronan had been thinking about him every day for the past week, much to his friends’ chagrin. He had let his name slip once or twice around them, and whenever he did they gave him a distressed, yet knowing look. Adam had offered to text Kavinsky to fuck off and get a life, but Ronan just sighed and told him not to, even if he was a terrible person. For some reason he still believed Kavinsky had it in him to redeem himself.

            _what will it take for u to talk to me??? please text back_

_A lot._

            Kavinsky stared at his phone’s brightly-lit screen, and then gulped. He took a deep breath and put down the handful of purple pills he was about to swallow. He had dreamt them up with no concrete idea of what they would do. All he knew for sure is that they wouldn’t kill him. Probably. He scattered the pills on the floor before lacing up his black boots. He had an idea. It wasn’t a good one, and it was probably one that would backfire miserably, but it was an idea none the less, and who was he if not reckless and impulsive?

            _come outside i got u something_

Ronan wanted to throw his phone against the wall and smash it into a thousand tiny pieces so Kavinsky could never contact him again. He clenched his fists and grit his teeth, but quickly threw on a t-shirt and shoes and walked outside. He didn’t know what to expect, but a bouquet of bright red roses was not it.

            “What the fuck?” He whispered to himself. Ronan knew Kavinsky too well, and therefore knew he had to be somewhere nearby. This wasn’t like him leaving him a car, this was… personal.

            “Like them? I thought you would,” Kavinsky smirked.

            “Why? Did you think you could actually get me back with flowers?”

            “No, but I knew it would get you to fucking talk to me again. Seriously, Lynch? What’s it been, two weeks now? I’ve been texting you nearly every damn day and all you’ve done is ignore me or send me two word replies. What gives? Are you suddenly too good for me, is that it?”

            “You know what?” Ronan replied, purposely moving so he could stand right in front of Kavinsky, giving him no personal space.

            “What?”

            “I am too good for you,” He told him, ripping his sunglasses off his face so he could stare him directly in his eyes. Ronan threw the sunglasses down on the ground and stomped on them with his boots, glaring at Kavinsky while doing so. He wanted to make sure that he knew exactly how pissed off he was at him.

            “Yeah, as if I can’t dream up a thousand more pairs of sunglasses,” Kavinsky laughed.

            “You know what? You can dream up as many pairs of sunglasses as you want, K, that’s true. But guess what? You can’t ever dream up another me,” Ronan told him, his voice calm.

            “Why would I even want to dream you up? You hate me,” Kavinsky stated as a fact. Ronan glanced at the ground and the shattered sunglasses, not feeling ashamed of what he did. He shrugged his shoulders, a blank expression on his face. He didn’t know how to respond to that. He stood there in silence, taking one step closer to Kavinsky.

“You going to say something or just keep staring at me?”

            “I don’t hate you,” Ronan said. He walked away, then. Kavinsky let him go.


	2. Are we going up, or just going down?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title shamelessly taken from a fall out boy song, so yeah
> 
> if you're enjoying this please leave a comment! honestly it's a struggle to try writing these two accurately and having to think about how they would work out if kavinsky had lived through the fourth of july because ronan had a huge revelation at the end of the second book and kavinsky definitely would've too and they're both very changed people and just yeah it's a lot. you can definitely disagree with my interpretation but please just don't be rude about it, yeah? anyways, enjoy this chapter!

            _Can we talk?_

_Sure, what’s up?_

“It’s about Kavinsky,” Were the first words Ronan said.

            “How did I know it was going to be about him?” Gansey asked rhetorically. “Well, go on, but don’t expect me to tell you to just talk everything over with him and hope for the best, you know as well as I do that it wouldn’t work.”

            “I know. I just… He said that I hated him last night and I told him that I didn’t and I don’t know why I even said it.”

            “Did you ever think that maybe you just don’t hate him? We all know you don’t necessarily like him, but maybe you just… don’t hate him?” Gansey offered.

            “It’s… not that. It’s something different and I don’t know what it is, but thanks,” Ronan replied, hanging up after he thanked him yet again for being there to talk to. He needed to clear his mind. He picked up the keys to his car and walked out the door. He didn’t have any destination in mind, he just wanted to be away from everything. Ronan left his phone on his pillow and grabbed cans of beer.

            He was lying on the roof of his car, drunk as could be when Noah showed up. Ronan felt a chill across his body, the only thing alerting him that he had shown up. He sat up, slowly, rubbing his eyes. He could already feel a headache coming along badly, and lied back down, knowing that if he sat up to talk to Noah he would probably just vomit all over him. Besides, Noah could just hover over him in the ghostly way he could. Yeah, that would be fine. He heard Noah snapping his fingers at him and realized he had dozed off for a few seconds, maybe minutes. He didn’t really know. What Ronan did know was that he had succeeded in clearing his mind, because no coherent thought was coming to him at the moment, and that was how he wanted it. The night air was whirling around him, and he wished he had brought a jacket with him. He wished for a lot of things, really.

            “Are you okay?”

            “Don’t know, don’t care,” Ronan punctuated that statement by putting both his middle fingers up towards the sky. He giggled, actually giggled, and Noah was more concerned than he had ever been before about him.

            “Can you sit up and pretend to talk to me properly? It feels sort of weird just hovering by your face, if we’re being honest,” Noah asked.

            “Probably not,” Ronan slurred his words. “And if we’re being honest, you look really fucking hot right now.” Noah let the comment go without a second thought. He had come here for a reason, and that reason was to knock some sense into him.

            “You know your friends are worried about you, yeah?”

            “Of course they are. Always so worried, like I can’t handle myself? I’m fine, pinky promise,” Ronan held out his pinky as a sign of this, and Noah refused the offer. He decided to fade away and secretly watch Ronan for the rest of the night to make sure he didn’t get into anymore trouble. He watched as he vomited up anything he had eaten mixed with beer, watched as he tossed and turned in his sleep, and watched as he sobbed, his chest heaving with each breath he took. He didn’t know how to help him, but he would watch over him.

            Ronan woke up the next morning to a killer headache and next to no recollection of what had happened the night before. He wished he was able to care that he could barely remember anything, but he couldn’t feel anything besides numb at the moment. He vaguely remembered Noah showing up, but couldn’t remember if he was just imagining it or if it was real. He did remember drinking a lot of beer, though, as displayed by the crumpled up cans littering the ground beneath him. He was in a parking lot somewhere, but he didn’t know where he was exactly. This was one of the rare times he wish he had brought his phone, or a GPS, or even a map. He had money for gas in his pocket and a lot of regret.

            “Fuck,” He said under his breath.

            “Need some help?” Noah asked, causing Ronan to jump. He didn’t expect Noah to actually be here, but was glad that he was.

            “Yeah,” He admitted. Luckily, Noah had come prepared. He was holding a map in hand, but said that he had a good idea of where they were. They drove back in a comfortable silence, Noah sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window at nothing in particular. He watched them pass plenty of trees, and could see that the season really was changing. Despite Ronan driving ten over the speed limit, he could still see a layer of leaves covering the ground. The sky was grey and dotted with clouds, and another cool breeze was blowing. It seemed appropriate.

            _(4) missed calls: Dick_

_(2) missed calls: Adam_

_u said u don’t hate me but ur still ignoring me???_

Ronan called Gansey first, obviously. He figured the two missed calls from Adam were Gansey’s second way of trying to get a hold of him, and Kavinsky could wait. He assured him that he was back at his place and that he was safe, and he could hear him breathe a sigh of relief over the phone. He explained to him that he had a really shitty night, and yes he would just talk to him next time instead of getting drunk and forgetting that people cared about him, he promised. He agreed to have dinner with him that night at Nino’s, on the condition that he brought Blue and Adam along so that way it wouldn’t be as awkward. In reality, if they were there, at least Gansey couldn’t lecture him on his irresponsible habits for too long, which was ideal, even if he believed he deserved just about every lecture in the world for what he did. He told himself he should’ve called Gansey earlier to tell him he was okay, and that he shouldn’t have made him worry so much, and that he never should’ve done any of what he did. Still, he couldn’t change that it had happened, but he could make sure that it didn’t happen again in the future, and that started with texting back Kavinsky to finally get some closure on whatever they had going on.

            _Meet me at the barns in ten minutes._

Kavinsky looked at the text for a matter of seconds before hopping into his car. He knew that Ronan knew he was fifteen minutes away if he wasn’t breaking the speed limit. He also knew that this may be his only chance to ever speak to him again, and got to the barns in nine minutes flat. He grinned when he saw Ronan leaning against his car, and purposely took his pair of sunglasses off to toss them at Ronan. He let them fall to the ground. He didn’t stomp on them. Kavinsky thought this was progress.

            “’Sup, Lynch?”

            “Whatever me and you had, we’re done.”

            “And you couldn’t have just texted me that instead of telling me to come here?”

            “I figured I’d at least do the right thing and tell you in person,” Ronan replied. He had this feeling in his stomach that he couldn’t describe. It was sort of like the feeling of butterflies in his stomach, if half the butterflies had broken wings and the other half were barely able to flutter. It was hope mixed with anger and regret and confusion. He still wanted to help him get better. He still wanted himself to get better. He didn’t know if he could do both at the same time.

            “You know as well as I do that that’s bullshit. Now why did you really ask me to come here?”

            Ronan was willing to try. He grabbed Kavinsky by his tank top with one hand, pulling him in close enough to feel his breaths. Kavinsky smirked. It felt like a victory, even if he hadn’t really won yet.

            “I want to help you get better, K.”

            “Not going to happen.” He tried stepping back before remembering that Ronan was holding him. Ronan instinctively wrapped his other hand around Kavinsky’s wrist so that he couldn’t run away, and he felt scars. Kavinsky actually looked ashamed for the first time in his life. He had told himself for so long that he wouldn’t act ashamed of his scars, and that it was perfectly fucking normal for people to go through depression, but right now he felt shame weighing down on him.

            “Please, just let me help?” Ronan pleaded. He knew it was a bad idea, and that it probably wouldn’t work and that Kavinsky was way too stubborn to ever admit that he had serious problems, but he wanted to try. Ronan let go of Kavinsky’s tank top as he nodded his head.

            “Yeah,” Kavinsky agreed, “Okay.”


	3. Detox just to Retox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooo sorry it's been like forever since there's been any sort of update, but college exists and that's a little bit more important than this so uh yeah. also if you haven't noticed already, pretty much all these chapter titles are from fall out boy songs and most of them are sort of fitting for this story so if you wanted a soundtrack for this, i guess sad fall out boy songs work?
> 
> next chapter is more focused solely on kavinsky because yeah this is technically supposed to be kavinsky's story, even if ronan is heavily in this. please leave comments if you're still reading and enjoying this, they really do motivate me to write more!!

            A week passed unremarkably. Gansey had made no progress on his hunt for Glendower, Noah was still fading in and out of reality at random times, Adam was studying and completing all of his assignments and striving for the best grades possible, and Blue was well, Blue. Ronan had dreamt up a few pens and pencils, making sure he was only bringing things out of his dreams that wouldn’t be potentially dangerous, and Kavinsky had managed to go two days without doing drugs and then relapsed. He went another three days without doing drugs, and relapsed again. It was a vicious cycle that he was working to get out of. Something in him had clicked, and he realized that he wanted to get better. Just seeing Ronan get his life back after struggling for a while had inspired him to want to do the same, and the idea of possibly being in a relationship with Ronan after this was encouraging. Still, he knew he had a long way to go.

            _lynchhh, pick up ur phone pls_

_(2) missed calls: Kavinsky._

_come on dude i need to talk to u_

_i know u don’t call people much but just… please???_

Ronan sighed. He had been about to go to sleep, but decided it could wait for a little while. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to show up for class on time anyway. That dream was long gone and unrealistic at this point. He stretched his arms out, grabbed a bottle of water to gulp down, and dialed Kavinsky’s number. He threw on a tank top, already preparing to go over to Kavinsky’s place if it was needed. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be ready at any moment to try helping Kavinsky, but he wanted to. Of course, this was all kept secret from Gansey on account of Ronan being afraid that he would scold him for doing this because Gansey would say that he needed to fix himself before he tried fixing others.

            “I just downed three cans of beer and I feel like shit,” Kavinsky told Ronan.

            “I’ll be there in twenty minutes, try not to make things worse,” Ronan hung up on him and drove over. Honestly, Gansey had a good point in that he should probably be focusing more on himself, but Ronan’s middle name was practically “loyal” and it was one of his biggest downfalls. It led to too many fights against people who were bullying his friends and led to him neglecting his own mental health at times to help others, but at the end of the day, he believed it was worth it to know that everybody he cared about was alive and okay. Kavinsky was becoming one of those few people he cared about. He pulled up to his house, well really Jiang’s, Prokopenko’s, Swan’s, Skov’s, and Kavinsky’s combined house, and saw Kavinsky sitting on the front porch with the cans of beer lying crumpled at his feet, and another can in his hand.

            “Put the beer down or I’m not taking another step towards you.”

            “Fine,” Kavinsky rolled his eyes, throwing the can somewhere into the yard. “Is that better, princess?”

            “Stop with the condescending nicknames,” Ronan demanded. He had decided on the car ride over that he wasn’t going to put up with them any longer. He had decided that he wasn’t going to deal with a lot of Kavinsky’s behaviors, and if they didn’t change, he was just going to give up on trying to help him.

            “Fine,” Kavinsky said. “Any other demands?”

            “Yeah, I actually have a lot of them, but for now this is about you,” Ronan told him while walking towards him. He sat down on the porch next to him, making sure to keep as much distance as he could. “Alright, talk.”

            “What if I don’t want to?”

            “Then don’t talk. Either way is fine with me,” Ronan shrugged. They sat in silence.

            Kavinsky thought the silence was enough for now. Granted it couldn’t stop all the thoughts that were running through his mind, but having somebody there to make sure he didn’t go and burn himself was a miracle. He felt numb, and he felt tears on his cheeks. He traced his own scars with his thumb, and his face held no expression displayed upon it. _This is what support feels like?_ He wished he could think of something to say. He wished he could dream this reality away. Kavinsky started looking at his hands, almost feeling unreal. _You’re okay, this is real. This isn’t a dream,_ he reminded himself. He felt Ronan’s hand grab one of his, and he felt grounded.

            “You sure you don’t want to talk?”

            Kavinsky nodded his head no. He didn’t want to do anything right now. He didn’t want to drink, he didn’t want to get high, he didn’t want to throw a huge party, he didn’t want to light something on fire, he didn’t want to go fuck Prokopenko to make himself feel better, he didn’t want to dream up some terrifying creature, but most importantly he didn’t want to kill himself.

            “Alright, I’m leaving. I need to get some sleep,” Ronan said.

            “Do you want to just stay the night here?” Kavinsky asked, though from the tone he used it sounded more like he was begging.

            “I don’t think that would be a good idea right now.”

            “Okay. See you, then,” Kavinsky gave him a small, reassuring smile, and Ronan left. He didn’t feel guilty or ashamed about leaving him. Kavinsky could deal with his own problems, and Ronan wasn’t his babysitter or caretaker. Ronan was, for now anyways, an acquaintance. He would help him, but only so long as he helped himself. Those were the unspoken rules, and even if Kavinsky didn’t stick to them, Ronan would. He wasn’t going to go down that path to self-destruction again. Ronan felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, looked at who was calling, and pressed the reject button.

            _i miss you already_

_Go to sleep._

Kavinsky would take what he could get, even if it was just a three word text message. He knew he was going to have to change, a lot, but he was willing. As long as Ronan was there to help him, it would be okay, or at least that was what he would tell himself to get through the night.


	4. living like life's going out of style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i haven't updated in forever pls don't kill me lmao. anyways, this is a more kavinsky and dreampack focused chapter, and huge trigger warning for drug abuse in this chapter. kavinsky is still struggling tons but i swear he'll start getting better soon enough, and the next chapter is definitely going to have some more rovinsky in it so uh yeah.
> 
> please leave me comments if you're still reading this! they encourage me to keep writing even though the real life world has pretty much gone to shit (i live in america, trump was elected as president not even a whole week ago i'm basically dying)

            _No, you’re not going to text him,_ Kavinsky thought to himself. _You don’t need to, and you need to give him some space,_ he tried to reason. It was hard to not text Ronan about everything, but he knew that if he texted him again, he would be met with a short, snappy response. He knew he shouldn’t. He decided to leave his phone on his bed and go take a shower. Honestly, he needed one badly. Still, when he could barely force himself to get out of bed, it was hard to work up enough energy to shower, or eat, or really do anything besides sleep.

            Kavinsky let the water wash over his entire body and let out a sigh. He massaged shampoo through his hair, and realized he should probably dye his hair again soon. It was naturally a dark brown, but he liked it being jet black. He lathered himself in body wash that from the labeling smelled like “dark temptation.” It smelled strong, and it smelled good, but he wouldn’t describe that as the smell. He let his mind start to wander as he rinsed out the shampoo. _What if I get better and he still hates me, or what if my friends hate me after I get better? What if I end up all alone? What if I never even end up getting better? Would that even be a bad thing?_

He stepped out of the shower, and while usually he would unwind and smoke a bowl of weed whenever he felt like it, he restrained himself from doing so today. He made himself some food (a grilled cheese sandwich, he didn’t know how to cook much else), and sat down on the sofa. Kavinsky kicked his feet up on the living room table and turned on the television, hoping that he could at least zone out of reality for a little bit. Trying to be better was a fucking struggle. He still couldn’t shake his need for drugs. He had started getting cold sweats, and he was always feeling jittery and on edge. He needed to take the edge off somehow, someway. _What if you just killed yourself? At least then you wouldn’t be feeling like shit all the time._ Kavinsky pushed the thought away.

            At some point he had fallen asleep. He only knew this because Prokopenko was shaking him awake.

            “Are you okay?”

            “Yeah, why?”

            “You were yelling and punching the couch in your sleep.”

            Kavinsky sighed. He assumed he had been having a nightmare, but he couldn’t remember anything about it. The dream seemed like a blur for him. He could vaguely remember there being fire. It wasn’t dancing and flickering in front of him like it usually would. He remembered it destroying something, but hell if he could remember what (who?) it destroyed.

            “I’m fine, just a shitty nightmare.”

            “Want me to grab you something to drink?”

            “Please,” Kavinsky gave a half-smile and gulped. He sat up and took a few deep breaths, trying to unravel the knot in his stomach. With each breath it loosened up, but it tightened right back up when he saw the Proko had brought him back a bottle of beer. His initial thought was to punch him in the face, because how could he not know that he was trying to avoid that sort of thing right now? His second thought was to take the beer and down it all in a few gulps, and well, he had always learned to not act on his instincts. He almost spat out the first sip, truly realizing just how gross this stuff actually tasted, but he continued drinking it down. After drinking down the bottle, Proko asked if he wanted another.

            “No, ’m good, thanks though,” Kavinsky waved him off. He only felt the slightest bit guilty about drinking, but at least he was feeling something, which was better than nothing, or so he thought. He sat there in silence, the television having been muted by somebody, and contemplated on whether or not he should even tell Ronan that he drank again. _It was only one beer, he doesn’t need to know. Besides, if you tell him that you fucked up yet again then he’s just going to think you’re a failure, because you are. You’re a failure. You’re a failure. You’re a failure._ The thought was a broken record, constantly repeating itself. He searched around for a razor blade, or hell, even a fucking pencil sharpener blade would work at this point. He just needed something he could hurt himself with. He went in the bathroom and found Jiang passed out on the floor. Kavinsky looked in the mirror, looked at the dark circles under his eyes, looked at the red rings around his eyes from crying, looked at how lifeless he appeared. He punched the mirror and the sound of it shattering into tiny pieces was immensely satisfying. He grinned as he washed the blood off his knuckles and cleaned up the glass, making sure Jiang wouldn’t step on it when he woke up. He was done with other people being hurt because of him.

            The next day, Skov overdosed. Kavinsky was the only one to notice, everyone else in the house being too fucked up to notice Skov sneaking off into the bathroom and taking a handful of pills. He panicked when he saw his body seizing on the tile floor. His eyes went wide and he yelled. He ran to go find his phone and called an ambulance, his voice shaking as he told the paramedics his address and what had happened.

            “Do you know what he took?”

            “I have no idea,” Kavinsky told them, and it was the truth. He had dreamt up so many pills that Skov could’ve taken any mixture of them. There was a good chance he was going to die because of his mistakes. After he hung up the phone, he went around the house, trying to remember where he stored all of his pills. He took all the ones he could find and flushed them down the toilet. Usually he would debate with himself for a few minutes if he really wanted to get rid of something he worked so hard on, but to see what effect they could have was enough for once. Kavinsky heard the sirens wailing and opened up the front door before the paramedics even got to it. He showed them where Skov was lying, and asked if he was going to be okay.

            “Calm down, he should be fine. From what you said it looks like you found him in enough time.”

            “Okay,” Kavinsky’s voice broke. He ran his hands through his hair and stared at the floor, one foot tapping anxiously. He let Skov be taken away in the ambulance, and refused to follow behind. If he died because of him, he didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want to see him fall into a coma, or gasp for his last breath of air. Kavinsky didn’t want to see him suffer. He couldn’t take it. He decided he needed to be anywhere besides his house. His house was no longer a home; there had been too much suffering.


	5. Trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these chapter titles keep getting longer whoops lmao
> 
> so uh... this update is up a lot sooner than even i expected (i've had a lot of free time to write this week??), and i apologize in advance for how sad this chapter is. i promise it'll be made up for with a lot more happiness next chapter. by the way, next chapter title is going to be "the last good thing about this part of town" if that gives you any sort of indication of where it might be going. all of your comments have been so wonderful and have given me tons of encouragement to keep writing this, so thank you so much for those!! i love to read what you guys are feeling or thinking about when reading this like honestly it makes my day

            “Skov. Hospital. Come pick me up, please.”

            “Fucking hell. I’ll be there as quick as I can. Don’t hurt yourself.” Ronan threw his phone into the passenger seat of his car and sped the whole way over. He was whispering prayers that Kavinsky would still be alive when he saw him. He threw the car in park and ran to the front door, banging on it and yelling for somebody to open it up. He kept trying to turn the knob and continuously rang the doorbell, knowing that somebody would eventually get annoyed enough that they would answer him, even if they didn’t want to. It was Prokopenko that ended up opening the door for Ronan, quickly motioning him to come inside. He looked like he had seen a ghost, and in some ways, he had. Ronan gave him a sympathetic look and a pat on the back before he went upstairs to Kavinsky’s room.

            “Hey.” Kavinsky was holding an unopened bottle of beer in his hand, wondering if he should just down the whole thing in a few gulps.

            “Put it down, you don’t need it,” Ronan gently took the bottle out of his hand, setting it down on the carpeted floor. He was surprised that he didn’t put up any resistance.

            They sat in silence with a blanket draped over them. Ronan wrapped one arm around Kavinsky’s waist, silently letting him know that he would be here for him no matter what ended up happening with Skov. He hoped for everybody’s sake that somehow he could fight off death and manage to live, but he also knew that Kavinsky’s drugs were sometimes unpredictable with their side effects. He was already planning on skipping classes tomorrow and had texted Gansey not to worry if he didn’t show up. He hadn’t asked why, just thanked him for telling him in advance.

            Hours had passed by, and so far Kavinsky hadn’t gotten any phone calls from the hospital. He was starting to regret not following that ambulance.

            He tried to sleep, but only found nightmares. The same one, over and over; Skov dying, Swan dying, Jiang dying, Proko dying, and him still staying alive. He drank a few cups of coffee and hoped it was enough to not let himself fall back asleep again.

            “Hi, is this Joseph Kavinsky?”

            “Yeah, that’s me.” He could tell by the tone in the woman’s voice that it wasn’t going to be good news.

            “We have some troubling news. While Skov is still alive, he still hasn’t regained consciousness. Simply put, he’s in a coma, and we don’t yet know for sure if he’s going to wake up. Since he doesn’t have any family that we could find, we’ve extended visiting privileges to you, if you would like to visit. We’re very sorry to inform you of this news, and if you need to talk to somebody our staff has counselors that we can put you in touch with.”

            “Thanks, I guess…” He paused to take a shaky breath, already feeling his eyes filling up with tears, “Umm… Have a good day,” He hung the phone up and let the tears spill.

            That day was a true test of how much Kavinsky could force himself to live through, with the occasional encouragement from Ronan. The garbage bag was filled with tissues stained with snot and tears.

            He visited the next day. Kavinsky had Ronan drive him there, not trusting himself to. If he drove himself, he might’ve not made it there. He walked into Skov’s room and the image was one that was so horrifying he knew he would never forget it, no matter how hard he’d try. Still, he knew he needed to be here, to see all of this. There were tubes hooking him up to machines monitoring his vitals, the only sign that he still had life left in him. His body was pale, and when he reached out to touch him a chill ran through his entire body. The worst part was his body wasn’t even that cold. Ronan had opted to sit outside the room, giving Kavinsky whatever time he needed right now. Kavinsky’s body seemed to be frozen in place. He felt like he was trapped inside this room, and that even if he managed to leave, he would get dragged back here. _This could’ve been me. This should’ve been me. I should be the one lying there fucked up right now. That should be me._ He wanted to pull his hair out and scream at the world about how unfair it was. He walked out of the room, head down with his hands in his back pockets. His face was blank, not having the energy to show any sort of emotion. Ronan wrapped his arms around him, letting him rest his head on his shoulder for as long as he needed to.

            “I don’t want to go back there,” Kavinsky mumbled.

            “Back where?”

            “Home.”

            They drove back to the barns, music cranked up loud enough to drown out the sound of sobs. Ronan opened the passenger door, and practically had to drag Kavinsky to get out of the car. He would be annoyed if he didn’t feel so bad for him. He threw down a few blankets and a pillow as a makeshift bed, and Kavinsky collapsed onto it. Ronan kept watch over him for about half an hour before deciding to try making something to eat. He wondered if Kavinsky had eaten at all recently. _Probably not._ He attempted to cook up some pancakes and bacon, but after he fried the bacon to the point where it looked (and tasted) like charcoal, he just ordered a pizza. He thanked the delivery man for driving to the middle of nowhere with a generous tip, and went to wake up Kavinsky. He needed sleep, but he also needed to be reminded to eat. He gently shook him awake, and handed him a piece of pizza.

            “Here. You need to eat. You can go back to sleep after, but you need food.”

            “Thanks,” Kavinsky said as he sat up and took a bite. After one slice he decided on going back to sleep, hoping that when he woke up things would be better.

            They weren’t. He woke up to Ronan telling him that he had missed calls from everybody, wondering where he was and where Skov was. _Fuck, I forgot to tell them. How am I going to tell them? They’re going to blame me for this. They’re going to, and they’ll be right. They’re never going to want to talk to me again. They’re all going to hate me. Hell, they probably already do, and I don’t even blame them. Fuck._ His hands were shaking as he dialed Proko’s number, hoping that if anybody could understand, it would be him.

            “Hey! It’s been days now and you aren’t here and Skov isn’t either and what happened? Are you okay? Is Skov? Please tell me you’re okay,” Proko was speaking frantically, trying to figure out what had happened.

            “Skov is uh…” Kavinsky gulped and took a few deep breaths before continuing on, “He’s in the hospital.”

            “What do you mean he’s in the hospital? What happened to him?”

            “He umm… He got into some of my drugs and got really fucked up,” Kavinsky was slowly telling him what had happened, each word bringing back more and more pain, “And I called the ambulance and he’s… in a coma.”

            “Oh,” was all Proko could say. He felt a sense of dread wash over him as everything started to sink in. “Do they know if he’s going to be okay?”

            “No.”

            “Where are you now? Should I come get you? Hell, are you okay right now?”

            “At the barns with Ronan, don’t come get me, and no, I’m not okay, but I’m trying to be.” With that, Kavinsky hung up the phone, knowing that Proko would tell the others what had happened. For now, he knew for a fact that he needed to be far away from them, otherwise there may not be a “later”.

            “Hey, it’ll get easier, I swear,” Ronan encouraged.

            “I doubt it.”


	6. the last good thing about this part of town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promised more happiness, and happy and cute moments you shall get in this chapter (i mean of course it's not 100% complete happiness, but it's much better than all the sadness in the past two chapters so there's that at least). Also don't think I've forgotten about me having Ronan continuously blow off his friends, that starts to come up in the next chapter (listen it's a kavinsky and ronan story at this point). fair warning that eventually kavinsky is going to relapse pretty soon here because well... they do happen as much as it sucks, and to just act like everything is fine isn't really realistic, but do know that i'll warn you all about that in the beginning of that chapter note, and i'll summarize what happened in the chapter note at the end of that chapter. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this much needed chapter of happiness, and if you've been watching a certain TV show you might note that I sort of kind of completely stole a line from it lmao
> 
> Please leave comments if you're enjoying this (i love reading them), and uh... yeah that's it

            Kavinsky didn’t get any sleep that night. Instead, he listened to his shitty electronic rap music that only he could understand the words to and tried finding some sort of comfort in it. He bobbed his head along to the beat and felt like he was human again. He caught Ronan tapping his foot along to the rhythm and a small grin crossed his face. It was the first time he had even come close to smiling in days. Ronan noticed this and stood up and started dancing to the music, a huge smile on his face as he dramatically pretended to sing along to the words, fully aware that it was in a language he didn’t understand. Still, the beauty of music was that you didn’t need words to convey a message. Kavinsky raised one eyebrow at him and let out a laugh. An actual laugh. Ronan thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. He continued to dramatically lip-sing and sway his hips to the noise, trying to keep a smile on Kavinsky’s face as long as he could. He had cancelled the plan to go get dinner with Gansey and Adam that night, and while both of them were a bit disappointed, they seemed to understand that this was more important.

            “Come on K, dance with me,” Ronan offered.

            “Fine,” Kavinsky rolled his eyes and stood up. At first he was dancing near him, a reasonable distance kept between them. After one song faded into the next, Kavinsky decided to take a risk that he hadn’t ever taken before. He pressed his body up against Ronan’s and started grinding against him. Ronan looked shocked, but not angry. He looked amused, so Kavinsky continued. He felt hands being wrapped around his hips, and smirked. He guessed a while ago that Ronan wasn’t straight, even if he hadn’t come out and said it to him yet. Teasing him about it was partially to piss him off, but Kavinsky had also wanted to know if he had any sort of chance with him.

            “I’m not supposed to like you this way,” Ronan whispered into his ear. He had always been afraid of telling people that he was gay. He had. He didn’t want to see people’s reactions. He feared that they would reject him, or tell him that it was a sin and that his god hated him for being himself. And here he was, telling Kavinsky of all people, that he was gay, and that he was into him. Of all the bad decisions Ronan had made, he already knew that this one was probably going to turn out to be the worst. He was waiting for a slap to the face, or for Kavinsky to yell at him and call him a fag, or a thousand other possibly bad things. He felt Kavinsky freeze for a few seconds, and just knew that something bad was coming.

            “Yeah, me neither,” was Kavinsky’s response. The next song started playing, and not another word was said.

            The sun rose right around seven in the morning, though neither of them were awake to see it. The morning light illuminated the dew on the grass, and the crisp smell of cold was in the air. A breeze was flowing through the opened windows in the barns, carrying with it small pieces of dead leaves. Squirrels were skittering up trees to retrieve acorns, and birds sung as they soared through the sky, migrating to a different place. Leaves crunched as mice ran across them, looking for food to nibble on. Life continued to go on as the sky became tinged with gray.

            Kavinsky woke up first. He sat around and watched the world around him come to life, a stark contrast to his usual morning routines of trying to keep everybody staying alive. He checked his phone, and was relieved that nobody had tried calling him since last night. He twiddled his thumbs and ran his hand through his hair. _I really need to get a haircut soon._ He sighed and realized that his stomach was growling. _Maybe Ronan left some pizza in the fridge._ The thought was a nice one, but then he looked over and saw the box at the very top of the garbage can. Still, if that was his only disappointment right now, then he was doing eons better than ever before. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ronan stretch his arms out. He heard a yawn and grinned. That grin was quickly forgotten as he remembered what had happened last night. Neither of them had been drunk or high or anything, and they had both confessed that they liked each other, in that way. Kavinsky knew he shouldn’t be afraid, and that Ronan would never pull a joke like that on him, but he was still terrified that he would suddenly realize what he said last night was wrong and would never talk to him again.

            “G’morning,” Ronan sleepily said, a smile across his face. Yeah, Kavinsky was fucked.

            “Morning,” He replied, lifting his head up out of his knees to look him in the eyes. There was a silence that fell between them, both of them too afraid to bring last night back up again. Kavinsky couldn’t deal with the fear weighing on him any longer. “So, about last night… Did you really mean it?”

            “Mean what?” Ronan raised an eyebrow, trying to remember everything that happened last night. Something in his mind clicked a few seconds later, and he visibly gasped. “Oh… Uh…-”

            “It’s totally okay if you didn’t I just… I need to know.”

            Ronan was never good with words. Actions though, those were what he was good with. He hopped out of his bed, sat down next to Kavinsky, grabbed him by his hair, and pulled him into a kiss. Kavinsky froze, but then his eyelids fluttered shut and he melted into the kiss. It was sloppy and messy and inexperienced, but Kavinsky didn’t care. It wasn’t the best kiss of his life, but it was the one that mattered most. It was every firework he had ever lit up. It was the rush of adrenaline he had felt in every race. It was the changing rhythm in the middle of a song, constantly growing and evolving into something different. Most of all, it was home, an actual home.

            Ronan pulled back, letting their foreheads rest against each other. He caught his breath and opened his eyes.

            “I uh… Yeah, that.”

            “You’re such an overdramatic fucking dork,” Kavinsky told him before breaking out into laughter. Ronan laughed along with him, knowing that somehow, everything was going to be okay.


	7. Life is just a Ferris wheel, it's always up and down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been forever since i've updated, so sorry about that. i know this chapter is a little more focused on ronan, but let's be real gansey would be getting worried at this point and at least that conversation needed to happen. i feel bad for putting kavinsky through so much but then i remember he died in the books and also in the books he's villainzed even though he's just a mentally ill teenager who has no proper support system or help or anything so like... i could be worse. anyways, next chapter is a little longer and much more kavinsky focused and yeah i hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> as always, i beg of you to please leave comments if you're enjoying this bc i thrive on your comments

            Ronan had gone back to school, trusting Kavinsky enough to let him be alone at the barns. He had started to fall behind in classes, and had mainly gone in to collect all of his make-up assignments. However, every day, without fail, the second the final bell rang he would jolt out of the doors and back to the barns. He knew his friends were starting to get worried about him, and he couldn’t blame them. Over the past few days he had started getting some concerned phone calls from the group, and even Noah had made himself more present recently.

            He was on his way back to the barns when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. It was Gansey. Of course.

            “Hello?”

            “Hey.” “I uh… I’m worried about you. I know you skip classes most of the time but you usually hang out with us and you sort of haven’t been recently. I just… is everything okay?”

            “Yeah, it’s just… Kavinsky,” Ronan confessed. He hadn’t told anybody yet about the two of them, or really any of the situation beyond saying that he was trying to help him.

            “Okay? What about him?” No malice in the question. Ronan was relieved.

            “He’s just in a really messed up place right now and I’ve been trying to help him get better and recover and I just need to be there for him. Sorry.”

            “And I understand that, but are you okay? I mean, this just isn’t like you to blow off plans and I know you’re trying to help him, but I just want to make sure this doesn’t end in disaster for either of you.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “I mean that sometimes people get so caught up in trying to fix others that they end up hurting themselves in the process, and I don’t want that to happen to you.” In all actuality, Gansey was terrified that Ronan would wind up getting himself in a bad situation and end up relapsing, again, and he wasn’t about to let that happen.

            “Well so far I’ve been perfectly fine, for your information. Besides, why is it any of your business what I do in my free time? Just because I don’t hang out with you as much as you want doesn’t mean I’m not okay,” Ronan’s anger was starting to slip through. He was tired of people always worrying about him.

            “It’s not any of my business, you’re right,” Gansey tried calming him down, “But I miss seeing you and hanging out with you. We all miss that, okay? I don’t even care if you don’t, but I just want to understand why,” He pleaded.

            Ronan put his car in park and turned the engine off, still not getting out of his seat. “I don’t think you’ll ever understand why.”

            “I may not, but if you tell me then I can at least try to understand. Come on, man, just tell me something, please.”

            “Fine,” Ronan let out a deep breath, “Truth is that I kissed Kavinsky, okay? And I don’t know why I did it or what it even means or anything, but I kissed him and I liked it,” was all he was willing to say.

            “Hey, it’s okay, I promise,” Gansey assured him, “I get it, you want to spend time with him because you like him in some sort of way, and that’s fine. Just, maybe next time we ask you out for dinner could you maybe come along with us? You can bring Kavinsky, that’s fine, but just… Don’t forget about the rest of us, yeah?”

            “Yeah, I guess that’s fair,” Ronan agreed. “I’m uh… I’m gonna go for now, bye.” He hung up the phone, feeling both annoyed and relieved all at the same time.

            He found Kavinsky sitting down with his eyes red, and he knew immediately it was from crying. He looked around the room, trying to figure out exactly what had happened. He didn’t see any bottles of beer, or any razor blades lying on the floor, and nothing looked like it had broken. Ronan could feel his insides twirling themselves into a knot that kept getting tighter as he tried to figure out why Kavinsky had gone silent and refused to look at him. He checked the fridge to see if he tried hiding anything, but it was pretty much empty. He didn’t see any bottles of pills nearby, and he was thoroughly confused as to what had upset him. And then, he saw Kavinsky’s phone, broken, sitting underneath Ronan’s bed. He didn’t even ask what had happened, just wrapped his arms around Kavinsky and let him know that it was okay to cry.

            “Skov. They don’t think he’s going to wake up,” He mumbled, his breath shaky.

            “Hey, it’ll be okay,” Ronan tried to comfort him, knowing that he couldn’t.

            “No, not it won’t.” Kavinsky started heaving, gasping for air in between sobs. “He’s going to die, and it’s going to be all my fault.”

            “No, you don’t know that, and it’s not your fault, okay?” Ronan was barely able to stop himself from crying. He had seen Kavinsky destroy himself countless times, but this was different. This wasn’t on Kavinsky’s terms, and he was scared.

            “But it is! I never should’ve dreamt up those stupid fucking pills, and I should’ve been paying better attention and I should’ve been able to stop him and I just couldn’t and-”

            “-Stop.” Ronan interrupted him. “You didn’t make this decision, okay? It sucks, it fucking sucks, but this wasn’t because of you,” He emphasized that he wasn’t to blame, hoping foolishly that maybe that message would get through to him.

            “It’s all my fault,” Kavinsky kept repeating, quieter each time.

            Ronan only knew that he fell asleep at some point that night because he woke up the next morning to cold wind whipping his face. He shivered and pulled his blanket closer to him, trying to protect himself. _Kavinsky._ He shot up straight out of bed and looked around the room. What he saw was absolutely terrifying.


	8. can't take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been forever since i've updated so uh... sorry about that. college is stressful af and i've barely had time to write this semester and i haven't had much inspiration but i really wanted to get back to this so yeah. in good news, my summer is about to start which means that i'll have way more time to focus on this in two weeks from now. thank you to anybody that's still sticking around for this and i hope you enjoy this chapter! Also please leave comments i thrive on them tbh

 

            Kavinsky. Gun in hand. Aiming it at his throat.

            “Put it down, now.” Ronan demanded.

            “Why should I?”

            “Because I don’t want you to fucking kill yourself, okay?” Ronan yelled. “You’ve done some fucked up shit but I still don’t want you to die, K.”

            “But it’d be better for everybody if I were just dead already. I mean hell, Skov is probably going to die because of me, you’ve stopped seeing your friends because of me, and nobody else in that house has even called in forever to even see if I’m okay. Nobody cares about me, so nobody will care if I die.”

            “I would care a whole lot, and I’m sure if you called Proko right now he would tell you the exact same thing. I’m sure when Skov wakes up he won’t blame you for this either, okay? Just take a deep breath and put the gun down, please.”

            “I don’t want to. And how do I even know that you care? Once I get better you might just leave me because you’ll probably end up hating me once I’m “fixed”, and don’t even say that it isn’t true because you don’t know if it is, you just don’t. If I don’t have you, then I don’t have anybody, and I’d rather die knowing that you still love me than live knowing that nobody could care less about me.”

            “I’m not going to leave you, K. I swear on everything, I will not leave you once you get better. Now please, I’m begging you, put down the gun.” Ronan had 911 typed into his phone just in case. He slowly approached Kavinsky, hands behind his back to prove that whatever Kavinsky did, he was the one making the decision right now. Kavinsky placed the gun in his lap, hands shaking. “Can I move the gun?”

            “Yeah,” Kavinsky nodded. Once Ronan had safely placed the gun on the other side of the room, he sat down next to Kavinsky.

            “Listen, I’m not going to give you a huge lecture right now, but you need to get serious help. I can only help you so much, K, but a doctor is going to be able to help you out with your problems way more than I can-”

            “-I’m not going to a fucking doctor. They’re going to treat me like a child who doesn’t understand anything, okay? I can’t go, I won’t.” Kavinsky put his head in between his knees, refusing to look Ronan in the eye. This was going to be a lot more difficult than Ronan thought, but that was a problem for another time. Right now, he just needed to make sure that Kavinsky wasn’t going to kill himself in the next few hours, or maybe even minutes (he couldn’t be sure of which).

            “We’ll worry about that another time then, okay?”

            “I uh… yeah, okay.” Kavinsky blinked his eyes rapidly, only now realizing that he had been on the verge of crying ever since he woke up. A few tears dripped onto the floor, and he forced himself to hold back any more, even if he knew that crying would unravel the knot in his stomach. “Can you drive me to go see Skov? You know, so I can see how he’s doing at least?” He sniffed.

            “Yeah, let’s go,” Ronan nodded, holding out a hand for Kavinsky to grab. He did.

            The doctors weren’t wrong. Skov looked close to death, and it was noticeable. His skin was pallid, his lips were cracked, and any fight he had before the overdose was slipping out of his hands, a stark contrast from the usual fists he had his hands balled into. The scar he had on his leg from accidentally scraping it across the bedpost was fading. Kavinsky almost thought it symbolic of how Skov was also fading away. He wanted to reach out and touch him, but feared his skin would be cold, despite all the machines saying that yes, he was alive. He dragged himself across the tile floor, the chains on his black boots swinging as he took each slow step. He focused in on that noise, blocking out all of the other chaotic sounds of the hospital. He stood next to Skov and grabbed his hand, squeezing it for good luck, and for comfort, though he’d never admit it.

            “We need you Skov. We all need you,” He took a deep breath, barely able to force words of encouragement out of his mouth, “You can do this. You can wake up, I know you can,” He told him, hoping that he could hear what he was saying, “Please wake up,” Kavinsky pleaded. Skov didn’t. Kavinsky left.

            “I’ve got to go to class, are you going to come along with me or just stay here for the day?” Ronan asked that Monday.

            “I’ll come with, what else better do I have to do?”

            As it turned out, most teachers were okay with Kavinsky hanging out in the back of their class, after some convincing. Ronan had managed to persuade most of them into letting him, giving them the story that he just wanted to consider his options for what the best schooling was, and of course, he mentioned that he was a friend of Gansey’s. It was usually, no, always, the mention of him being Gansey’s friend that led to all of his teachers letting him observe the lecture of the day. Kavinsky thought most of the discussions and lectures were dry and bland, but he took a liking to Ronan’s english class. They had been reading Frankenstein, and Kavinsky was thrilled that they were discussing one of the few books he had decided to read.

            “So, throughout the book, the theme of society creating monsters is one that should be taken into account. Does anybody have any thoughts on this, in relation to the book that you’re _supposed_ to be reading?”

            Kavinsky raised his hand, not expecting to be called on, but hopeful that the teacher would at least give him a chance, especially since only one other person in the whole room had their hand raised.

            “Ronan’s friend, go ahead.”

            “So in Frankenstein, the monster is forced into isolation even from the beginning because his creator left him all alone, terrified of what he had done. This forced the monster to seek out somebody accepting of him, but people judged him constantly based on his appearance, even though he had done nothing wrong, such as the people in the cabin, who ended up accepting the pretty foreign girl, but not the monster. This eventually lead to the monster trying to force the creator into giving him a mate, somebody who could understand him and relate to him. However, the creator refused, not wanting to make another outcast, which is what ended up eventually leading to the monster destroying the people that Frankenstein loved as his act of revenge. The monster wanted to make Frankenstein feel what he had felt his whole life: isolation.”

            “That’s a uh…” The teacher paused for a second, letting his words sink in, “really good analysis, actually. Thank you for your input. Anybody else?”

            The one student that had been raising their hand didn’t put it back up again, everything they had to say already said. Kavinsky went through the rest of the day in near silence, occasionally whispering some smartass comment to Ronan, and eating lunch with Ronan and his friends. The feeling of normality was one that Kavinsky could get used to.


	9. If I can live through this, I can do anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i know it's been literally like 30,000 years since the last update but i am back and finally inspired to write a bit more in between binge-watching teen wolf (anybody else hyped af for the return of derek hale??? because i am) episodes. 
> 
> sorry in advance for how sad this chapter gets, but i felt like i had to write it this way. "Why?" you may ask? I believe that this chapter is the one that really shows how much kavinsky is recovering in that after this tragic loss, he still doesn't relapse and fall back to his old coping mechanisms despite how easy it could be to do so. And no, he still isn't coping perfectly, but i don't believe anybody could have anything immediately go back to normal after losing somebody close to him. However, this chapter i wrote with the intention of showing that he's made a lot of progress in learning how to cope, and how to break his bad habits of shutting out those that he cares about. 
> 
> In all honesty, this fic is probably going to end fairly soon (honestly this next chapter might be the last) because in my mind, kavinsky has almost fully recovered at this point. I can guarantee you though that there will be some sort of epilogue to this (most likely set about a year after this main story takes place) that I will add on to the end of this because this is a story that I feel extremely comfortable writing an epilogue too, and I believe that it should have one.
> 
> Guess that's all I really wanted to say with this note, and thank you to everybody that has encouraged me to keep writing this fic. all the kind comments really do mean a lot, so thanks for leaving them <3

            Skov passed away that Saturday. Kavinksy got a call from Jiang, who had heard from Prokopenko, who had been the last one to see him before he slowly slipped away from the world.

            “Why didn’t you call me earlier?”

            “We didn’t think it would be a good idea for you to be there for it,” Jiang told him.

            “And why the fuck would you think that?”

            “Because you would never be able to forget that image of him, okay? You’ve already beaten yourself up to death because you somehow think that this is your fault, and we didn’t want to make that any worse. Anyways, I’ve got to go. Proko’s on his way back right now and I’m sure he’s not in the best shape. Just remember, this isn’t your fault,” Jiang hung up on him.

            Kavinsky collapsed. He sunk down on the floor, wanting to hit something but not having any strength left in him. He wanted to hurt himself. He wanted to sob until he couldn’t produce any more tears. He wanted to push away everybody that he cared about and isolate himself for the rest of eternity. Kavinsky couldn’t do any of it. All he could do right now was hyperventilate while curled up in a ball on the floor, and wish for death to come sooner. Ronan wrapped one arm around his shoulder, not saying a word. Sometimes silence was more a comfort than any words were.

            “He’s gone,” Kavinsky whispered, “He’s gone.”

            The funeral was on Monday. Kavinsky managed to force himself to go to it. It was the least he could do. He threw on his everyday clothes, a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt, and knew that Skov wouldn’t mind. He was glad that they had opted for a closed casket funeral. He didn’t know if he could bear to see his body, all pale and cold and devoid of life. Everybody said a few words for him, and by everybody that meant Jiang, Proko, and Swan. Swan got choked up during his speech and couldn’t finish reading the words that he had written down. He left the piece of paper on the ground right next to where Skov was to be buried, and hoped that his ghost could somehow read all the words that had been left unsaid between them and would know that he was loved. Kavinsky refused to speak. He felt like he didn’t have the right.

            The rest of the week passed in a haze. Kavinsky tagged along to class with Ronan, mainly just so he could try to distract his mind. It sort of worked. He would listen in on discussions of Frankenstein, and try to throw in a few words here and there. He realized that he would never in a thousand years understand the math that they were teaching, and Kavinsky wanted to get to know more about chemistry. It genuinely seemed like something interesting.

            Though he could distract himself well enough during the day, everything would hit him once the sun went down. He was losing sleep, and most nights he would only be able to fall asleep after crying for hours on end. Still, Ronan was there, bringing him hot tea and placing a blanket across his shoulders, and reassuring him that in time, the pain would fade. Kavinsky had to believe that he was right. In the meantime, he would just keep surviving, hour by hour, day by day. Survival took a lot of energy, especially when Kavinsky wasn’t trying to aid it with hallucinogens or stimulants.

            _we’re having a party tonight, u wanna come? –Proko, 2:15_

_No. –K, 2:16_

Kavinsky spent that weekend curled up next to Ronan, leaning on him as they watched bad science fiction movies and ate slightly burnt popcorn. Kavinsky grabbed a can of Coca-Cola from Ronan’s fridge and took slow sips of it, letting the cool bubbles make their way down his throat. Ronan was playing some game that he had downloaded on his phone in between sending out messages to the rest of the gang to reassure them that he was okay, and that yes, he would definitely hang out with them tomorrow night for dinner.

            _u can even bring kavinsky if u want, we don’t care –Blue_

_Yeah seriously, it’s no big deal. He can tag along. –Gansey_

_i mean i guess he can join us. don’t get me wrong, i still don’t really like him that much but if he makes you happy then i guess –Adam_

_r u guys sure? i dont want to make u uncomfortable –Ronan_

_yeah, it’ll be fine –Adam_

_I mean, how annoying can he possibly be when he’s not on drugs? it’ll be fine –Blue_

_Yes, I’m sure. He’s important to you, which by default makes him at least somewhat important to the rest of us, or at least me. –Gansey_

_alright see u guys tomorrow –Ronan_

“Hey, K, my friends have been worried about me and want to see me. Do you want to come with us to dinner tomorrow night? You can just stay here if you don’t want to, or you could also go to Proko’s place I guess. It’s really just up to you what you want to do.”

            “Dinner sounds good,” Kavinsky mumbled. He had been leaning against Ronan while listening to his heartbeat. It was a rhythm so consistent that he had almost fallen asleep to it.

            “M’kay. I’ll tell them you’re coming along,” Ronan replied, running one of his hands through Kavinsky’s hair. It seemed to be soothing him.

            “M’kay.” Ronan was partially focusing on the laughably bad movie, partially focusing on helping Kavinsky try to get a good night of sleep for once. Eventually he felt Kavinsky’s breathing slow, and knew that he had finally fallen asleep. He just hoped that his dreams were nowhere near as nightmare-ridden as his reality.


	10. Things have changed for me, and that's okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one last thank you to everybody that has stuck around and given this fic kudos or a comment or two and encouraged me to keep writing this despite the initial backlash i got in the first few chapters lmao. writing this hasn't always been the most fun and easy thing, but it's been worth it for me and i feel like at least this fic version of kavinsky is finally redeemed and has grown tremendously throughout the words i've written. yes, there will be an epilogue posted eventually (no idea exactly when yet but hopefully soon), but i'm marking this as complete for now because the main story is finished. so, enjoy this chapter, and thank you all again for reading this. hope you enjoy!

            “You almost ready, K?” Ronan asked while pulling his shirt over his head. He had been so distracted that day that he hadn’t even realized what time it was, and was now afraid they were going to be late to dinner. He knew that his friends wouldn’t really mind too much, but would still inevitably feel bad about it the later they ended up being.

            “Just gotta tie my shoes and I’ll be ready!” Kavinsky yelled back, tying the laces on his boots into a bow. He still didn’t really know exactly why he agreed to this beyond the knowledge that it would make Ronan happy, and hey, it couldn’t be that bad, right? Plus, he really, desperately needed some new friends.

            _You about to be on your way? –Gansey, 6:25_

_yeah, sorry we’re a bit late. lost track of time –Ronan, 6:28_

They both hopped in Ronan’s car two minutes later, fully aware that Ronan would be speeding the entire way there, though that wasn’t much different from his usual driving habits. Kavinsky cranked up the music, letting the beat pulse through his body.

As cliché as it sounded, it was times like these where he felt the most alive. Though recently, despite Skov dying, despite being off drugs and alcohol, he was starting to feel alive much more frequently. It was in the little moments that he shared with Ronan, where they would be playing some video game while sitting on the floor and Kavinsky would just barely win and yell in excitement. Where Ronan would be running his fingers through his hair while he sobbed, feeling so full of emotion that sometimes it hurt, but he knew now that life was always going to be filled with good and bad, and that life could never be entirely good. And honestly? He was tired of endlessly trying to chase after eternal happiness. The bad times sucked, for sure, but they only served to make him further appreciate the good moments. The cheek kisses, the cans of pop that he drank, the candy that he crunched on and relished in the sweet taste of it all. The music pounding through his soul, the drives on nights where he was sitting passenger and watching Ronan smile as he sped down an empty road. How Ronan’s fingers seemed to intertwine perfectly with his own and how Ronan would still trace the faint scars littered on his body and reassure him that they were healing, and that he was, too.

“Hey, you okay? You seem out of it?” Ronan asked gently, “If you don’t want to do this we can just turn around.”

“Actually, yeah, I’m okay. I just… I was actually thinking about good memories for once. Feels weird,” Kavinsky admitted, still nervous about letting himself be this vulnerable with anybody.

Ronan let out a relieved sigh. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

They walked into the diner to the sight of Blue blowing her straw wrapper into Gansey’s face, Adam laughing in the spot next to her.

“Hey guys! What’s up?” Gansey shouted.

“Not much really, just been chilling out most of today,” Ronan replied for the both of them, Kavinsky nodding his head in a silent echo of his words.

“Yeah, just ‘chilling out’, right?” Adam nudged blue, winking at both of them, causing the whole group to laugh. It was weird in the best way possible how normal this all seemed, how Ronan’s friends had just accepted (or at least acted like it) Kavinsky into their group without a second thought, and were now just teasing the both of them like nothing was wrong.

“Oh shut up, Parrish,” Ronan waved his comment away with the flick of his wrist and took the spot next to Gansey. They had gotten a table of six, and Kavinsky took the empty seat next to Ronan.

They all spoke to each other in a language of their own, with talk of ley lines and how Gansey had found a new clue in the Glendower hunt, how Adam was fixing up a car that he hoped would be his own shortly, how one of Blue’s many family members had done something hilarious earlier that day. They spoke in between bites of burgers and sips of shakes, just speaking about how they all had been doing recently, how Blue dreamed of one day owning multiple pet lizards, and how Gansey thought that was odd but in a really nice way. Kavinsky would throw in a comment every once in a while, and was relieved that there wasn’t a prolonged moment of silence after each one. Ronan was mainly just sitting back, watching his truest friends in the world accept Kavinsky into their group. It was nothing if not encouraging. And yeah, sometimes Gansey crossed his arms, or Adam would shift a little in his seat, but they kept smiles upon their faces and overall seemed to be okay with him.

After their dinner was eaten, Gansey pulled Ronan aside while Blue was striking up a conversation between her, Adam, and Kavinsky.

“Hey, you’re okay, yeah? Kavinsky isn’t hurting you or anything? You’re still you know, not drained by this or need a break or anything?”

Ronan would’ve gotten mad if it wasn’t for the aura of concern that seemed to surround his friend. “Yes, I’m okay, I promise. And yeah, it can be a little draining from time to time, but he’s really getting better, you know?”

“Actually yeah, I do know. I won’t apologize for judging him at first, because he still was a piece of shit back then, but he’s changed. I can tell, and I’m pretty sure everybody else can too. I’m not saying that I completely wholly accept him, and I’m still not entirely trusting of him, but I’m glad he came tonight, and I’m glad that he makes you happy,” Gansey gave him a smile before adding, “But just know that I’m still keeping tabs on him and if he ever hurts you I will hurt him back twice as hard.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything different,” Ronan huffed out a laugh, clapping Gansey on the shoulder before pulling him into a hug. “Really though, I’m okay, I swear,” He mumbled into his ear.

“I know you are,” Gansey responded before pulling back.

Ronan and Kavinsky got back to their home later that night. And really, it was their home, their lives now entwined with one another, for both the good and bad parts of it.

“Thanks for letting me tag along tonight,” Kavinsky commented, taking his shoes off.

“It was no problem, really, and I really do think they’ve sort of accepted you, K,” Ronan told him.

“You really think so?” His insecurities were still creeping up, telling him that he had screwed up so many times that he’d never get a second chance at having friends, that he really didn’t deserve one because he had let one of his other friends die and how could he be expected to have anybody that cared about him after that?

“I really do,” Ronan walked over and placed a kiss to his forehead, “I think that they’re still a bit nervous around you, but I think that they’re okay with you being with me, and with you being part of our group.”

“Guess I can’t really blame them for being nervous around me, huh? I mean, I’ve messed up so much that even I’d be nervous around me knowing what all I’ve done,” Kavinsky sighed, almost tensing up but then he felt Ronan’s arm wrap around his waist and it was well… better.

Ronan just shrugged, neither wanting to confirm nor deny the stream of consciousness that Kavinsky seemed to be on.

“But your friends actually seemed nice to me and I just…”

“Haven’t gotten used to the feeling yet?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Kavinsky replied. “I like it though, a lot.”

“ ’m glad you like it,” Ronan told him, pressing another kiss to his cheek.

“Why are you so good to me? I haven’t done anything to deserve it and you’re just… Still here for me. Even though I’ve fucked up so many times, even though I’ve hurt you. You’re still here, and I just… Why? You could find somebody better than me at any time,” Kavinsky let his questions fly out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“You remember the first time I saw your scars, yeah? And you looked terrified and ashamed and so many other things, and you thought I hated you and I thought I did too but when I offered to help you do you remember what happened?”

“Honestly I was so out of it that night I barely remember anything,” Kavinsky confessed.

“You agreed to let me help you. For the first time ever, you let down all your walls, let yourself be vulnerable, and you let somebody help you. And I knew from that very moment that no matter what happened, I wasn’t going to leave your side. I wasn’t. And yeah, you’ve still screwed up, still have had a lot of issues to work through, and you’re nowhere even close to perfect,” Ronan paused, both of them taking a laugh at that comment, “But you know what?”

“What?”

“Throughout all of it, you’ve been trying to get better, every single day. Yeah, you’ve slipped up, but one slip-up hasn’t made you spiral downwards infinitely, and you’re still trying your fucking best, and you’re okay with telling me that you aren’t okay all the time, you know?”

Kavinsky cut Ronan off with a kiss, tears now spilling down both of their faces as they held each other close, not wanting to stop even to gasp for air. Kavinsky wound his fingers into Ronan’s hair as Ronan placed a hand on the small of Kavinsky’s back, both of them wanting to be as close as they could be. This wasn’t like their first kiss that was filled with uncertainty about everything, where neither of them knew for sure if Kavinsky was even going to live to see the next day. Where Ronan didn’t even really know for certain whether or not he really, truly liked Kavinsky. No, this kiss was one of certainty, that they would both live, not just survive, and that they were going to be together for it. Ronan moved from Kavinsky’s lips to his cheeks, to his forehead, trying to kiss every inch of his face, tasting the slight tinge of salt from his teardrops while doing so.

“So yeah, I’m in this with you until the end, which is hopefully a long, long time from now,” Ronan paused, “Because I love you. And it still sort of terrifies me to say that, but it’s true. I love you, I do.”

“Hey Ronan, did I ever even tell you my real name?” Kavinsky asked in a shaky tone.

Ronan paused for a moment, trying to recall if he had ever known him by any other name. “Don’t think you ever have.”

“It’s Joseph,” He told him.

“You want me to call you that?”

“Don’t know. Maybe we can just try it out for a few days, see how I like it?”

“Yeah, we can do that,” Ronan told him, trailing his fingers up and down his back in a soothing motion.

Kavinsky woke up the next morning to the feeling of Ronan’s arm wrapped around his waist lazily. He rubbed at his eyes while yawning, not yet ready to get up. He took a few deep breaths, just reminiscing about everything that had happened last night. Ronan loved him, really loved him, and wanted to be with him. In all of his wildest dreams (and some of them were pretty wild), he never could’ve expected this. Never could’ve expected that actually being brave enough to admit that he liked Ronan out loud would’ve led to this. Yet here he was, curled up next to him, happier than he had been in a long time, without the drugs or the party lifestyle or any of that. He was happy just being with Ronan, just living his life in close proximity to him. He knew he was going to have bad days, where he would inevitably feel awful and shitty and want to, for a split second, return to a life of drugs and chasing one drink with another. But he wouldn’t. He would stick by Ronan, as long as he would let him, and grab a bag of chips and a can of cola out of the fridge, and just watch some movie while calming himself down. It would be okay.

“Mornin’ Joey,” Ronan mumbled, tightening the grip he had around his waist.

“Mornin’,” Joseph replied. Yeah, it was going to be okay.


	11. Hey Moon, Don't you go down (Epilogue)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am i doing nanowrimo this year? um hell no. does nanowrimo still inspire me to write though??? uh yeah
> 
> i said i would write this epilogue months ago but i finally got around to it and i hope that i wrapped this up in a way that's pleasing to everybody that's read this. i can now say that this story is 100% complete and will not have anything more written about it, although i'm always open to writing more rovinsky fics in the future.

_4 th Of July, One Year Later_

            

            Kavinsky rubbed his eyes as he woke up, unenergized but still ready to tackle the day ahead. He knew that today was going to be a rough one, and that he would likely have to deal with some unpleasant memories popping back up when he least expected it. He turned over to see Ronan still asleep, and snoring quietly. Kavinsky had a soft smile on his face as he stretched his arms out above his head. He yawned and took a few steps over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water to sip on until Ronan got up and made them breakfast as promised. The cold drink did little to wake him up, but it was already hot outside despite it only being nine in the morning. He sat down next to Ronan, his gaze fixed on his amazing boyfriend. Today would be rough, but he could get through it as long as Ronan was by his side.

            It was 10:30 AM by the time when the smell of chocolate filled the barns. The scent was carried along by a pleasant breeze, and the hashbrowns they were munching down on were as golden as the sun was. Ronan and Kavinsky sat at their table, greedily eating every last bit of their meal. The crispy, salted hashbrowns were the perfect complement to the sweetness of the chocolate chip pancakes. Birds chirped outside happily as the wind slithered in between green leaves. It was a pleasant scene for a hopefully pleasant day.

            “Hey Joey, you still up for going to Gansey’s little celebration tonight?” Ronan asked, knowing that this party could quickly backfire.

            “Yeah, think I’ll be okay as long as you’re there with me,” Kavinsky responded, nodding his head slowly.

            It was 8:30 PM and the sun was just starting to set. The sky was turning yellow to orange to a deep magenta faster than the seasons had changed. Adam had a sparkler in each hand, an elastic smile stretching across his face as the sparks danced in front of him. Blue was lighting smoke bombs and walking into the smoke, her legs almost entirely concealed by the green-tinged smoke. Gansey was, non-surprisingly, cooking burgers and hot dogs for everybody while making sure they all had something to drink on (non-alcoholic, per Ronan's request). Ronan had just pulled up to Gansey’s house, thrilled but terrified at the same time. Him and Kavinsky stepped out of the car and were greeted with hugs from Gansey’s mother, whose perfume was almost sickeningly sweet.

            “It’s so nice to see you!” She said, mainly directed towards Ronan, “They’re all out back, make yourself at home,” She placed a hand lightly upon Kavinsky’s shoulder, trying to seem as accepting as possible.

            “Thank you,” Kavinsky said politely as they walked out to the backyard.

            The whole group was sitting around the fire pit, roasting marshmallows for S’mores despite already being full. The flickering flames lit up the night sky as they were all telling jokes to each other. At one point Blue had started telling a story of when Gansey had found a huge spider in her bathroom a few weeks ago, complete with an impression of his actions.

            “That thing was terrifying!” Gansey yelled.

            “Okay but you didn’t have to throw your shoes so hard at it! It was harmless,” Blue laughed.

            “It may not have been physically harmful but it was certainly causing me emotional pain,” Gansey argued.

            Blue stuck her tongue out at him, “It just wanted to be free and you killed both it and its dreams, Dick.”

            Gansey rolled his eyes as the rest of the group chuckled.

            The first fireworks had been set off in the neighborhood only minutes after the sky had gone dark. Ronan saw the bright flashes of light, heard the bang, and wrapped his arm tighter around Kavinsky’s waist. He knew that it was going to be rough for him, and was ready to leave at a moment’s notice if they needed to. He felt Kavinsky jump a little from his seat, and couldn’t help but worry about him.

            “You okay?” He whispered.

            “Just a little scared,” Kavinsky admitted.

            “Wanna leave, or no?”

            “Think I’ll be okay,” He said as he curled himself into Ronan’s chest. Ronan ran his fingers through Kavinsky’s hair, soothing him and pressing feather-light kisses to his forehead.

            It was nearing midnight when the fireworks around the neighborhood had finally slowed to a crawl. Kavinsky had made it through, almost without incident. As they were all saying their goodbyes to each other, a few small fireworks had been set off. An unexpected bang rang through Kavinsky’s ears, and he felt panic starting to take over him. He covered his ears with his hands while pulling the passenger door shut and closing his eyes. His breathing was already becoming uneven, and he couldn’t take deep breaths no matter how hard he tried.

            “Hey, Joey, look at me,” Ronan placed one hand gently on Kavinsky’s leg, trying to ground him to reality. “You’re not in any danger. You’re inside my car, and you are okay,” Ronan assured him. Kavinsky slowly uncovered his ears, now sobbing as the fireworks continued to go off.

            “The night horrors,” He was rambling, “They aren’t dead, they’re right in front of me and I can’t stop them and oh my god I’m gonna die.”

            “They died last year, K,” Ronan said in an assertive, but soothing voice. “They aren’t in front of you. This is just a flashback. You’re safe. Open your eyes for me.”

            Kavinsky opened his eyes, slowly becoming oriented with his surroundings.

            “There you go. You’re doing great. Remember that you’re in the present right now. You’re sitting in my car, next to me, and you are safe.” Ronan grabbed his water bottle out of the cupholder and unscrewed the cap. “Here, take a drink of water for me.”

            Kavinsky took a few sips, letting the cold remind him that what was happening right now was real. He grabbed onto Ronan’s hand, squeezing it tightly. Ronan grinned and rubbed small circles into Joey’s hand, letting him take his time to remember where and when he was. These memories had come up plenty of times in the past, so Ronan had sought out resources to help Kavinsky get through these episodes.

            “Think I’m feeling a bit better,” Kavinsky told him. “Can we just go back home now?”

            “Yeah…” Ronan let out a sigh of relief, “Yeah, we can.”

            Later that night, both of them were cuddled up next to each other, a large flannel blanket draped over them. Ronan had an arm wrapped around Kavinsky’s waist, holding him close. As they were drifting off to sleep, Ronan heard Kavinsky whisper something unintelligible.

            “Hmm?” Ronan mumbled.

            “I love you.” Kavinsky told him, for the first time. He could feel Ronan’s grin without even having to see it, and fell asleep that night peacefully, no longer worried about nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment if you enjoyed this story, i really do appreciate them even now that this is over <3 thank you to those that have joined this journey and have stuck around for possibly the most random update schedule of all time, and thank you to everybody who has encouraged me along the way, you mean the world to me


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